Chapter 2 "Women and their secrets"
Copyright @ calibeachgirl
All rights reserved, 2011
Love is a strange thing. It demands constant attention, care and devotion. It is hard to get, harder to keep and easy to wither and die.
I was brought abruptly back to the present by the waitress asking if we wanted dessert. My beautiful, wonderful Belle made a pretense of looking at the menu but I knew she would choose the New York cheesecake with strawberries and I, the good American that I thought I was, asked for apple pie.
I looked across the table at Belle, her bright smile greeting me, giving me the emotional support she knew I needed with such a surprise staring us in the face.
"Are you all right, honey? I mean, you know..." Her worried look betrayed the smile she tried to keep.
"Yes, Belle, I'm OK... it's just that..." I shook my head in disgust, repulsed at what Nancy had done to me all those years ago and yet, I thanked God each day for my Belle who loved me unconditionally.
"It's too bad," she said, "that it all happened, especially for her." Her hand took mine and squeezed it lovingly.
"Yes, it is... God, she's in such bad shape. We haven't seen her in how long?" I knew how long it was and so did Belle... down to the second.
"You haven't seen her in nineteen years, eight months, twenty-two days." She laughed. "Do you want to know how many hours and minutes, too?"
"My God, how on earth?" I was both amazed and frightened that she had kept such close attention.
"I'll never forget that first time, baby, never. Oh, good, here's dessert. Want to share?" She must be trying to make me feel so much better. Belle never shared her dessert.
"I'll never share you with anyone, Belle, never. You're my life." She seemed more than satisfied at my words of affection and took that first spoonful of cheesecake and offered it to my lips.
I licked her spoon clean and she then whispered, "You want to lick something else tonight? I know I do." Her smile gave promise to the rest of the evening.
As usual, she didn't want any of my apple pie. As I slowly ate it, small bite by small bite, my mind returned to that insane night in 1964...
The employees' lounge was upstairs and overlooked the lobby. Still in Alisa's office, we heard several voices, including Nancy's, move noisily up the stairs. I got up and Alisa joined me walking out to the building's lobby. Standing near the back door opening to the parking lot, I watched as she went to the tellers' windows where she could signal me when my wife came downstairs.
The sound of laughter grew as people returned to the main floor. Alisa nodded her head slightly. If I wasn't looking for it, I would have missed it; around the corner came Nancy wearing a short dark orange skirt and what I guessed was a light yellow silk blouse. As nice as her clothes were, I had never seen them before, but then, I had never seen the dress from Friday night, either. My wife had a whole other life that didn't include me or our future together.
With his arm possessively around her waist was the man who I took to be Jerry... the man who, at that moment, I would have had no problems butchering like the pig he was.
They didn't notice me until they stopped where I was standing in front of the door. There wasn't any shock or surprise on my part although I was completely heartbroken to witness her deliberate betrayal. I wasn't too sure what was going on in her mind. I had already faced my demons Friday night... and Saturday... and Sunday... and this morning in the doctor's office.
Jerry didn't have a clue who I was and stood there smiling at me. I thought about taking that stupid grin off his face but then I noticed that Nancy wasn't wearing her wedding ring. It was, I thought, entirely possible he didn't even know she was married but then I remembered her phone call to him Saturday morning to this piece of trash.
Nancy had that 'deer in the headlights' look I had heard about so many times but had never really seen 'till now. At least it was gratifying to see some emotional response from her.
"Hi," I said. I put my hands in my pockets, trying to look cool but feeling anything but.
"Hello," he replied. He held her tighter to him, in his mind setting a boundary between the two of them and me. It was a subconscious move on his part but quite evident to me, working around teenagers all day long. I wanted to kill him that moment. He seemed to become a little nervous since I had not moved out of his 'space' and looked around for Canton to unlock the door.
"So," I asked, "big plans for tonight?" I smiled, actually enjoying myself for the first time in days.
"Yes, my girl and I are going to dinner and then a little dancing." He winked, letting me in on his little joke. Horizontal dancing was more like it... and evidently, not the first time, either.
"Well, that sounds pretty nice." I turned to my wife. "I'm here to take you to that birthday party, Nancy. The car's just outside." I reached for her hand with my left and and then I touched her cheek with my right, caressing her face so gently, so lovingly, thinking back to the good times we had.
"Hey! Wait a minute!" He put his hand out and pushed me back into the glass doors. The loud thump caught everyone's attention and they all turned to look. I could see several of the men starting to walk toward us even though they seemed unsure as to what was actually happening. I figured they thought that two co-workers were having some kind of trouble and decided to intercede before it got out of hand, probably by trying to put the beat-down on me.
I had expected he would do something like that so hitting the glass didn't do much except for the noise.
"Don't touch my girlfriend, asshole." He brought his hand up again. I don't know what the hell he was thinking. I already had him on assault and battery and he still didn't know who I was... I could have been a serial killer for all he knew or, as was the case, a very angry possessive husband.
Nancy had retreated; her hands covering her face, trying to make it all go away.
His hand came toward my chest, again. You know how some people say it happened so fast they didn't see it coming? For me, it all happened in slow motion and whatever instinctive training was still buried somewhere in the back of my mind surfaced with a vengeance. All my frustration with the miserable situation exploded in his face.
One of the strangest concepts that men, well, people for that matter, seem to have is to not fight 'dirty.' It's a fight! There's no such thing as a 'fair' fight.
I gripped his hand with my left and bent his little finger to the side violently, breaking it. He screamed like the pig he was. Just for good measure, I worked my way through the rest of his fingers, bending back and breaking each one in turn and he fell to his knees as he screamed and screamed each time I heard another 'snap.'. He would remember that night for at least six weeks with his hand splinted up, for the rest of his life.
"Don't touch my wife, asshole!"
I moved across the lobby to the wall and leaned against it, still trying to look as cool as possible. The men who had been approaching realized the situation wasn't the one they thought and backed away. With Jerry on the floor whimpering like a child, I bent over and whispered into his ear. "You know, I'm going to kill you if you're still in town tomorrow morning." It sounded pretty good even though there was no way I was going to prison for killing a miserable bastard like him.
I wasn't going to let her get away that easily and said in a just loud enough voice to be heard, "What about the birthday party? Have you changed your mind? I came here just to take you there and spend some time with you. Who's your friend, anyway?"
I nudged his hand with my shoe, causing another scream to break the silence that had filled the building.
Nancy turned around and was torn between looking at him and staring at me, her husband. I could see the other women smiling that cold-blooded smile that only women could.
She knelt down next to him and said something. It seemed like she spent an inordinate amount of time on the floor, buying time.
I couldn't hear what she was saying, but I didn't care. Her reaction was answer enough for me but I was having too much fun with the situation.
"I'm ready to go home, now," she said, looking for Mr. Canton to unlock the door to the parking lot.
"Take me home," she said sternly as quietly as she could.
There was a chorus of laughter now, not directed at me but at Nancy. For a split second, I wondered if I had taken it too far but then just said, "Fuck it."
By this time, Canton had unlocked the door and Nancy had fled into the relative quiet of the parking lot. There was my Chevy and she made a bee-line for it, waiting for me to unlock it, tapping her foot like a woodpecker attacking a tree and striking an attitude. I couldn't believe that she was still acting as if everything was my fault. Whatever happened to the girl that showed up occasionally to love me?
After I unlocked the door, she slid in as fast as she could and when I started to close it, she grabbed the handle and pulled it hard enough that it slammed.
Damn! I've told her not to do that so many times it had become a nervous mantra with me. I so wanted to hit her at that point and amazed myself. I was angrier that she continually disrespected my old car than I was knowing she either had or would try to cheat on me with Jerry... someone I planned on destroying whether he left town or not. For a moment, I could see both of them lying side by side out in the Mojave... or weighted and dropped over the side from a small boat in the San Pedro Channel. A couple dozen other scenarios played out in my mind before I put the key into the ignition and started the car, it's V-8 rumbling in the quiet night.
"Not feeling well, again? Is that what happened? Was he taking you home so I could take care of you?" I glanced sideways enough to see her just staring out of the abused side window.
It had reached that time of the evening when there was just a hint of daylight left and the lights were already on. When I was a child, I would squint my eyes and let the lights turn to hazy colors. I thought it was Christmas each time and wondered why there were no gifts when we arrived home.
The disappointment of the lost gifts had never been equaled until these last few days. As much as Santa was dead, so was my love for her. At best, it was in a hospital bed with everyone around crying at the impending demise.
At that moment, I was ready to bring flowers to the gravesite. I still wondered if she had already completed her deed with Jerry and whether it would make any difference.
I knew I had to speak to Nancy about the syphilis she had contracted and passed on to me... I just didn't know how to go about it without a lot of screaming and yelling, mostly on my part.
As a coach, I knew that sometimes a good defense was a good offense and decided to just tell her.
We were sitting in the living room, watching television. That's not true; the television was on but neither she nor I were really watching or even listening to it. I got up and turned it off.
I had brought out a plate of Oreos and we seemed to be more interested in the cookies than in each other.
"Nancy, is there something you really, really want to talk about? I mean, you and me?"
"Nancy, I have to tell you something that you're not going to like very much... I'm sorry."
"What are you talking about, Vince? What have you done?"
I could see that she was getting angry and I hadn't even brought to the forefront what was the matter this time.
"I had to see the doctor the other day."
I let that hang in the air while I picked up another cookie and popped it into my mouth. The dry cookie halves broke apart and I could feel the coldness of the white filling. The bad thing about eating Oreos is that the dark cookie crumbs coated my mouth and get in between my teeth.
"I went to see the doctor because I didn't know if I had caught VD, somehow." Now, I had her attention and I could see her lips begin to pout.